Just Say Yes
by TheLadyJazz
Summary: AU  Alfred and Arthur are in love.  But when a family gathering turns disastrous, they soon find more differences in each other than they are comfortable.  Is their love enough to keep their engagement from falling apart?   Full summary inside!  USUK
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Alfred, a young law student from Los Angeles, and Arthur, an English intern architect, are in love. But when their families come together for the first time, they realize that they may not have as much in common as they originally thought. Throw in a peeved German, a worried Canadian and four brothers whose main mission in life is to ruin your happiness and things are bound to get chaotic. Will Alfred and Arthur's love prevail over their countless differences or will they just give up and call it quits?

**Notes:** Ian=Scotland; Dylan=Wales; Colin= Northern Ireland

**Pairings:** USUK; barely-even-there, one-sided FrUK; slight PruCan

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><p><strong><em>Just Say Yes<em>**

"Oh, yer still alive. I was worried when ya didn't pick up right away."

"I wouldn't be answering the phone if I was dead you twit. Now what do you want?" Arthur was currently balanced on a high stool, phone nestled on one shoulder, and trying, with little success, to untangle the lights so he could loop them around the tree. Sensing that it could take a while, he leaped from the chair and reached for the tub of Bionic Snow instead, sprinkling fake snow randomly onto the branches.

"It's a wonder 'a that mouth of yours 'asn't gotten ya killed yet."

Arthur scowled. "Put a sock in it Colin! I'm busy right now."

"I just called 'cause your brother wouldn't stop pesterin' us about you—"

"Peter's your little brother too, you know," Arthur pointed out.

"Half," Colin said hastily. "And I told 'im your plans weren't any of 'is business anymore, but 'e kept yakkin' abaht the bloomin' loads of presents that ya were supposed ter brin' 'im apparently."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line in which Arthur mentally chortled. He had been the youngest before Peter was born. And although his full brother by birth, Peter annoyed him enough that he always used to joined forces with his older half-brothers in ganging up on him when they were younger. He didn't just do it because it boosted his ego immensely to be the one doing the tormenting for a change or because it felt nice to belong (finally) but because Peter had been a spoiled, rotten, insufferable brat who _always _got his way with everything. It drove all them absolutely nuts! But Arthur hasn't seen him for nearly two years now and he supposed he does kind of miss him.

"Tell him I bought him a Wii but that's it. And I've already mailed some cash over so if he wants something else you can just buy him something from the local stores and tell him they're from me. But…I'm not sure if I'll be coming home this year. I don't know." Arthur ran a hand through his messy hair. "It all depends on what Alfred's plans are.

"Ah. The yank."

Arthur didn't miss the careless disdain in his tone. His eye twitched in annoyance. His brothers may not have liked that he was going out with the "loud and clueless" American but they didn't have to be such bleeding arses about it all the damn time. He was about tell Colin off when the latter added, "He can come if he wants to."

"Er—No, I don't think so."

"Why not? I'm sure Ian and Dyl would love ter meet—"

"That's not it!" Arthur cut in. Just thinking about letting his rambunctious older brothers anywhere near Alfred nearly raised his blood pressure to unhealthy levels. Lord knows what they'd do to the poor guy. "I just—look—we haven't discussed what we'll be doing for Christmas yet, but he usually spends his with his brother."

"See, that's just brilliant ain't it? You're free er spend yours with us then. Your family's just as important after aw."

Arthur didn't want to ruin the relatively civil conversation they were having (an occurrence that was rarer than his family trying to keep in touch) by saying no, he'd rather not thank you. Somehow he had a feeling that his brothers just wanted him home so they could physically coerce him into buying the whole holiday experience for them again, just as they always did since he started earning substantially in the US.

"Maybe...I'll think about it," he said a moment's consideration. "Look Colin, I've got to go okay? It's our six-month anniversary and I still have a lot of decorating to get done."

"Fine but make sure ya think abaht it, alwigh'?"

It was more of a command than a request from a concerned relative, Arthur thought, but that was Colin for you. There was a click and then the line went dead.

* * *

><p>Though the snow hasn't started falling yet, the air was sufficiently chilly that, at times, even the thick winter coat he wore couldn't keep him from shivering. But the cold doesn't bother Alfred too much. Not today. His racing heart was already doing very well in keeping his body well-insulated. He tightened his grip on the strap of his satchel and let his feet carry him to the one place in New York he really hoped hadn't closed yet. It didn't look like he had much luck there as when he turned the corner, he saw Mrs. Héderváry was already in the middle of locking up.<p>

"Wait! STOP!" He yelled from the across the street.

"Huh? What—"

Alfred raced over to her quickly, ignoring the loud honking and angry cursing from the cabdrivers because he had crossed the street while the lights were still green.

"D-don't," he panted as he tried to catch his breath. "I'm so sorry! But the professor— he wouldn't let us off until the last minute and I still don't have—and I thought, _how awesome would it be i_f I got him a watch or a new cufflink or something—"

"Hon, please! Slow down!"

Alfred looked down in surprise, not having realized that he had grabbed her by the shoulders. He must have been babbling quite frantically too since Mrs. Héderváry was now staring back at him in concern. He let go of her and gave her a sheepish grin.

"Sorry. I just—my boyfriend and I—it's our anniversary and I really need an awesome gift for him and this is his _favorite_ jewelry store..."

He trailed off and Miss Héderváry smiled at him sadly, understanding.

"I'm sorry dear but my husband's already waiting—"

"Come on, please?" Alfred pleaded, cocking his head to one side and throwing her a goofy, toothy grin and just _praying_ that he looked as hopeful and as sincere as he felt. Just enough to touch the woman's heart. "It would really mean a lot to us if you'd let me buy something for him here so please? It_'s _the season of giving?"

Miss Héderváry giggled, her motherly affections set off by the young man's persistence.

"Oh alright," she said, taking out her keys. "But let's make it quick, shall we?"

"Do you have anything particular in mind?" She asked him once they got inside and Alfred had practically zoomed over to the vast selection of gold and diamond watches being displayed behind the glass cases. Alfred shook his head, feeling slightly put out because while he wanted to get Arthur something that was meaningful and conveyed all the emotions he's ever felt (still feels) for the Brit but can't really verbalize, he only realized now that there were just too many damn brands and designs to choose from that he couldn't possibly make a precise decision without compromising the whole point of the gift.

"Uh..."

"I could help you choose if you tell me how the two of you met?" She offered with a twinkle of _something_ in her eye. Alfred wasn't sure what it was, but it was definitely there.

"Oh I guess so…We met about a year ago," he began. "I just moved from Los Angeles to begin my internship here but I was on a tight budget then. Luckily, a realtor friend tipped me off about an apartment that was renting considerably cheap. Way cheap."

_Both men took hold of the door's handle at the same time. Alfred could swear he felt the static pass between them from when their fingers brushed together briefly._

_"You-" they began together and stopped._

_The stranger chuckled. "Hello rival," he said. _

_Alfred studied the slightly shorter man in front of him. He had sandy-blonde hair that was cut short and choppy, a slender frame and the greenest eyes he's ever seen. And also, a pair of the biggest and thickest eyebrows he's ever seen. With a warm grin, he slowly retracted his hand from the handle and stepped back. The other man regarded him with an amused expression but quickly entered without another word. Alfred followed and his mouth almost fell open. It was so spacious! Had he heard Yao right when the Chinese man told him that this was only renting for less than $3000?_

_"Wow..." _

_He peered at his rival and saw that the man was thinking just about the same as Alfred, though without the gaping. _

_"Well I'll be gobsmacked!" He had an unmistakable British accent that, to Alfred's ear, sounded rightfully snobby and yet, he found to be oddly cute. What came out of his mouth next though was the sound of shattering glass. "I guess I'm taking this then," he said, forest-green eyes busy scrutinizing the place. _

_"What?" Alfred cried in outraged disbelief. "But I got here first!"_

_The other man turned to look at him, one large brow arching up in question. "I think you're mistaken, lad. I believe I stepped in here first." _

_Alfred's mouth cured downwards into a frown. This was his reward for acting heroically moments ago? Geez, how unfair! _

_"Because I let you, remember?" he reminded._

_The Brit rolled his eyes at him. "Come now, do you really need this amount of space?" His slim arms extended sideward to gesture to the whole expanse of the room. _

_No. He really didn't. But Alfred's pride wouldn't allow him to lose to what was a clearly a challenge in the man's voice. An idea popped up in his mind. _

_"Well, there are two bedrooms you know?" Alfred said suggestively. _

_He crossed the room and in a few strides, found himself standing in front of the Brit. He felt the other man tense for one second, then relax and square his shoulders. Spunky, Alfred thought appreciatively. This up close, he noticed that there was only but a small difference in their heights. _

_"Whaddya say?"_

_For a split second, the other man looked doubtful but then he smiled, warm and shy, and said, "I suppose...it could work. It should help a bit with the rent, eh?"_

Alfred smiled fondly at the memory. It did end up working marvelously in the end.

"We became roommates after that. I didn't get along so well with him at first but ah, you could say that everything just sort of –"

A glint of something shiny caught the corner of his eye. He turned to look at it and then just like that, it hit him. Like a ton bricks.

"…fell into place."

He swallowed, edging himself towards another glass case nearby and staring at its contents in amazement, as if only realizing what he should've known all along. Why was he out here, buying a watch of all things when his destiny, his life, his _whole future _was already so clear to him?

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><p>Arthur lost count of the number of times he adjusted his necktie or straightened his suit vest or smoothed out his hair. He paced around nervously, back and forth, carefully realigning the silverware or scattering around a few more rose petals on the table. With Coldplay's 'Christmas Light' playing softly in the background, everything looked, felt and sounded perfect. Even the weather was being agreeable tonight; the bright and twinkling stars blending in splendidly with the Christmas lights decked out on the patio's covering, creating soft, glowing specks of reds, greens and golds. It took him all of yesterday afternoon and today to transform the boring and dull rooftop into a place that was worth sharing a romantic, candle-lit dinner with a lover, but he thought all the hard work was worth it. He just hoped Alfred would like it.<p>

"Woah..."

Speak of the devil. He couldn't contain the swell of pride in his chest when he turned and saw how wonder-struck Alfred looked, his bluer than blue eyes wide open in amazement.

"Alright there, luv?"

"This-did you?-Wow Artie, this is amazing!"

"Thank you, darling. I try my best." His cheeks were warming up nicely now. Great. "S-so I ordered take away," he said, gesturing towards the boxes of food lined up neatly in one corner of the table. "Since everywhere else is probably full and this is a...a special occasion a-and I figured even though we'll be eating in we'd really be you know...eating out."

He nearly squawked when Alfred pulled him into a bone-crushing hug but relaxed as soon as he heard—felt—the deep rumble of Alfred's laughter. He grinned and pretty soon, his shoulders were shaking in open laughter as well. They stood holding each other like that for the longest time, just absorbing each others' body heat after a cold day of work and stress. He would liked to have been held longer but Alfred pulled away first, looking at him with an intensiveness that so rarely passed his youthful face.

"I love you."

Arthur gazed up at him, lifting his hands to gently cup the American's cheeks.

"I love you too Alfred."

Then Alfred did the unthinkable.

He got down on one knee and Arthur was quite certain that had he not had his mouth already open at that time, he would have choked on his own spit. Instead he settled for doing the less embarrassing. He froze on the spot, wide-eyed and gawking, inwardly spewing curses and trying very hard to convince himself that all this was not just some horrible, elaborate, wonderful dream his overly tired mind had conjured.

"Arthur," Alfred began. "I love you so much that sometimes I feel breathless just looking at you. You give me hope that dreams are not just fantasies because they c_an _become real. Arthur, you were my dream. You are the sun, the moon, the stars and everything in between. You—you complete me. Make me feel alive. _Free_. Because of you, I feel that I am a better person." He paused, expression softening. "Arthur Kirkland, will you marry me?"

Arthur's breath caught. Alfred was never one for words but what he just said completely blew him away. Hard as he tried to blink them away, he felt the onslaught on tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He had not expected to be proposed to tonight. Or at all, to be perfectly honest. It was all too sudden! Too soon into their relationship. They were too new to this! And what if Alfred regretted this later on? What if _he _regretted this later on? What would happen to them? No, no. It wouldn't do. He couldn't possibly—couldn't think to—

And yet—and yet Alfred had asked with so much sincerity, so much love and adoration in his eyes that Arthur found it impossible to refuse him. No, it was not just that. He didn't really _want_ to refuse this. Him. He _wanted _this.

It took him a while to regain his good senses and realize that Alfred had not moved from where he was still kneeling in front of Arthur. His shoulders had sagged but he looked at Arthur as if he was the answer to all his problems, as if Arthur—cynical, stuffy, boring Arthur—was all he'd ever hoped for and more.

"Yes." The words were out before he realized he had spoken them. "Yes you git! Silly, ridiculous man! Of course I would love to marry you!"

In the next instant, Alfred was up and was kissing him fiercely. Arthur melted into his touch, returning the gesture just as fiercely and as passionately, opening his mouth to taste the man who had captured his heart, his life, his soul. Soul mates. He liked the sound of that. It made his stomach twist in a pleasant way and it felt as if his heart would rupture from happiness. They broke apart for air, laughed and kissed some more. Somewhere in the middle of all that, their ring tones flared.

"Mattie?"

"Colin?"

"You wouldn't believe what just happened!" They said at the same time as the other.

"I just proposed at Arthur! He said yes!"

"Colin, Alfred just proposed to me! What? Of course, I accepted!"

"Yes, I'm serious! Okay, gotta go. I'll tell you all about it later."

"Bugger, they really said that? Well tell 'em to belt up because they have no say in this! I'm getting married!"

They shut off their phones and looked at each other. Alfred's face broke into a wide, happy grin and it was only now that Arthur noticed that his eyes were shining and wet at the corners. He felt a rush of affection spread throughout his chest. He pulled Alfred down towards him and planted a soft kiss in the corner of his mouth. Dinner would have to wait.

* * *

><p>Matthew put the receiver down with a quiet sigh. He and Alfred had just spoken and from what gathered from their conversation, his brother was dead set on marrying Arthur. If that was the case, he knew from experience that there was little he could do to talk him out of it, let alone stop him. As much as he liked Arthur (and he really did, even if the Brit tended to act just a <em>little bit<em> neurotic at times), he couldn't help but feel that maybe Al was rushing into this too early, too soon. That maybe, in the heat of the moment, he had bought the ring without really thinking about the kind of commitments and responsibilities that came with matrimony.

"So? What did he say?" Gilbert asked, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

"They're really doing it," he mumbled, more to himself than to Gilbert. "I don't understand it Gil, they've only been going out for six months."

But Gilbert had stopped listening to him and now looked at Matthew as if he had just delivered the best news he's heard in years. He guffawed loudly, laughing so hard that he had hold on to the back of the sofa to prevent himself from lurching forward and accidentally knocking his head with Matthew's or something.

"Pfft! He finally decides to settle down and he chooses stick-up-the-ass_ eyebrows _of all people? God this is just _golden_!"

"Would you cut that out?" It was times like these that made Matthew wonder what had possessed him to marry someone as obtuse as Gil. Said albino didn't seem to care whether his brother-in-law was possibly making the biggest mistake of his life as long as he got a big laugh out of it. "This is serious Gil, they're too young! What if they aren't ready yet?"

Gilbert tutted in disapproval.

"Uh, Mattie? You're twins, which means technically _you_ were younger than him when we got married. And Arthur's what—23? Practically an old man already! Sure acts like one sometimes."

"I was way more mature than he was and you know that!"

"You did have unfair leverage by having me as your fiancé yes," Gilbert agreed with a smug smile. "Aw, forget it Mattie! Al's a big boy; he knows what he's doing."

Matthew doubted it, but maybe Gil was right. Al was a bit child-like in his spontaneity and often let his emotions get in the way of his logic but he was no idiot. And he wasn't naive either. At least, he hoped not. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into when he proposed to Arthur. Honestly, he loved his brother and just wanted him to be happy.

"You're right. I just...I'm can't help but worry about them, y'know?"

"Hm." Gilbert hugged him from behind, gently rubbing circles to soothe his tense shoulders. Matthew relaxed under his touch, thinking that his German husband could be sweet when he wanted to be. A comfortable silence settled between them before the German jolted, suddenly remembering something.

"Did he mention anything about Aspen?" he asked.

_What a way to kill the mood_, Matthew thought.

"He, uh, said that he wasn't coming."

_And there he goes_. There was stunned silence for about one, two, three seconds before a shocked scream of "WHAT?" ripped through New York's wintery streets.

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><p>Meeting at the pub once a week to catch up was one of the brothers' unspoken but zealously followed family traditions, along with torturing their two youngest half-siblings. As usual, they met up eight o' clock sharp, ordered their grub and lager and began complaining to each other about everything they could think of: sports, politics, their jobs, their bosses, relationships, who they fancied and whose faces they wanted to punch in the next time they met. It was a quarter past eleven, when the effects of the alcohol finally started kicking in, that Ian, the eldest, decided that it was finally time to open up about one of their most favorite topics to discuss: Arthur's love life.<p>

"So…the brat finally got engaged, 'uh?"

The others all grunted their agreements, murmuring different variations of "I never thought I'd see the day" or "Is 'e for real?"

Ian blew a puff of smoke from his cigar. He never thought he'd see the day either and who could blame him? Between Arthur's rigid personality and his awful habit of bad-mouthing his lovers, it was hard enough finding someone who had the goolies to put up with him for a fortnight, let alone spend the rest of their lives with him. Unless of course...

"'a long did ya say the bloke's been datin' 'im?"

"Six months," Colin answered shaking his head. "It's a bloody joke is wot it is."

"A bleedin' miracle more loike!" Dylan piped. "Blimey Cole, remember that Spanish fellow—Fernandez…Hernando...somethin'!—remember 'a 'e ran off with that Italian twin' abaht a week after 'rthur introduced 'im ter us? Got scared I imagine. Tsk, gutted the miserable sod."

"Can't blame 'im though. I mean, Art can be lil' off 'is trolley sometimes."

"Do ya reckon it's our fault 'e's loike that?" Colin wondered. "Wot if we beat 'im too 'ard?"

"Nah, don't think so. 'e owes us for makin' 'im a 'ard one. But daan't ya think it's a bit funny that Yank 'asn't bolted yet?"

"What do ya mean?" Dylan asked.

"I mean, this is 'rthur we're talkin' about—the bloke 'oo couldn't keep a single one of 'is relationships intact since gettin' out of 'igh school and na 'e's gettin' married after only six months of datin'? Wot a load of rubbish!"

That got the attention of his younger siblings. Their heads snapped up in attention, looking at him with confused faces.

"So wot you're sayin' is that it's a sham?" Colin asked.

Ian nodded, taking another long drag from his cigar. He didn't like how fast things were going between them. Call him old fashioned (and maybe he was, so what?) but he believed that there were certain, unbreakable rules to be followed when it came to maintaining long-lasting relationships. Like knowing all the important details about your significant other for one thing. Maybe that was the reason right there. Maybe this Jones fellow didn't know all there was to know about their little brother. Maybe all he saw was the outer shell of the person Arthur really was. As the patriarchal figure of their clan, of course, he was accountable for all of his brothers' doings (or misdoings). And whatever mess Arthur and his American fiancé ended up in the future because of their half-arsed attempt at marriage would affect him, surely. Just the mental image of Arthur dragging him to every pub in the country, bawling his eyes out was enough make him cringe.

"Exactly."

Dylan rubbed his chin for a moment, looking thoughtful. "What d'you suppose...if we get 'em ter come over and play for a bit, yeah? Get ter know our future brother-in-law and aw,"he said. Ian saw a mischievous glint in his eye and smirked.

"You know, mate, I think that's the finest thing you've said all night."

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><p><strong>Okay, first of all. I know that 2011 is basically over and that everyone is probably already sick of the amount of Christmas cheer and holiday brouhaha that's been going on all season but people, if you could please, <strong>_**please **_**spare room for just one more, I promise I'll try to make this as quick and as painless as possible. Like most of you, I've been incredibly busy these past few days with coordinating and attending all sorts of parties, gatherings and reunions (and recovering almost daily from hangovers) that I found myself burned out and unable to write satisfactorily. But don't worry, everything's over now and I plan to finish this fic no matter!**

**If you've watched the TV movie "Will You Merry Me?" you've probably noticed the bazillion similarities in the film and this fic's scenes and dialogues, most notably a certain line (that I've shamelessly ripped off) in the proposal scene. I assure you all that was intended although of course, the circumstances after this chapter will deviate greatly from that of the film for plot purposes. **

**This fic is a (unsolicited but I hope, appreciated) gift to edelweiss123 who at the moment, is co-authoring a fic with me (USUK, of course) which we will be posting once we get enough chapters done. Please watch out for it. **

**So this is it for now. **

**If you have any thoughts about the pacing, characterizations, grammar or the story itself or, if you're feeling generous and just want to share a helpful tip or a bit of constructive criticism, please, by all means REVIEW and tell me all about them. I hope you enjoyed! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

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><p>Arthur woke up early that morning with a terrible headache. It had only been a couple days since Ian texted him, demanding that he come home, and he'd been mulling over it ever since, hardly able to sleep. Beside him, Alfred shifted and rolled over, snoring softly. He groaned.<p>

This was it. Today, they were flying to London.

"Bring Jones with you," was what Ian had said. Unsurprisingly, Arthur's first thought was 'No way in hell!' followed by 'This is my fault. I shouldn't have told them! I shouldn't have.' He thought nothing of it then. He only did it out of politeness (Not because he was excited. Of course not!). Only much later, did he realize, how utterly stupid that was of him. Still, he expected nothing more than maybe a few, compulsory jibes over the phone. A fair, safe distance away. Nothing harmful.

He hadn't expected _this. _

Well they couldn't force him to go if that's what they were thinking. He'd never been very good at following orders anyway. And if they asked, he'd feign ignorance. Easy as that. Text messages often got missent, didn't they?

It made him feel marginally better so he left it at that and then quickly forgot about it.

But the disappointing reminder came the morning after in the form of two British Airways tickets he found wedged in between their regular mail. Inside the envelope where it was kept, was a note in Ian's script:

"_Don't forget to bring Jones. We would dearly love to meet him."_

_Dearly._ Arthur could almost hear them sniggering behind his back. He glared at the letter which lay innocently on table, stock-still, as if taunting him.

Resisting the urge to tug on his hair and scream, he grabbed it, half-opened, and dashed to the nearest trash bin, intending to throw it out when, right that moment, Alfred walked in.

"Do we have leftovers? Cuz I don't really feel like cook—Woah hey! Whatcha got there Artie?"

Arthur gasped, dropping the envelope. It flew and landed not far from where Alfred stood. Alfred raised a brow.

"Is that for us?" he asked curiously, pointing to the fallen item. Stunned and feeling minutely ashamed at having been caught, Arthur could only blurt a weak "No!"

Alfred didn't look convinced though. "Let me see that—" He crouched down to pick it up. Arthur, who had recovered from his temporary daze, lunged for them as well.

"It's nothing!"

It was too late. Alfred had gotten them first. Flashing Arthur a smug grin, he pulled out its contents, eyes widening slightly when he took a good look at what they were. He sent Arthur a confused look, which the latter waved off irritably.

"They want to meet me?" Alfred asked after he had finished with it, carefully placing the letter atop the counter. He sounded skeptical. "But I thought they hated me."

Clearly Alfred wasn't used to being disliked for no reason because for one long moment, he was silent, waiting for Arthur to say something to corroborate him.

"Don't take it personally, luv." Arthur sighed. He smiled reassuringly at Alfred. "They're horrible to whomever I'm with. They get a kick out of making my life miserable like that, "he explained drily. "That's why…" He patted Alfred's cheek affectionately before sauntering past him. He felt that now was a good time as any for a nice cup of tea. "…we are absolutely _not _going."

"Good thing I'm awesome then, huh?" he heard Alfred say after a while. With his back still turned to him, Arthur hummed his affirmation before letting another bout of silence consume them. It was comforting, this silence, the stillness peaceful and relaxing.

Then out of nowhere, Alfred declared, "I think we should go."

Arthur choked, swallowing a soft curse when some of the hot tea spilled on himself. He set the teacup down onto its saucer with a sharp 'clang'.

"Are you _serious_?"

"Yeah—" Alfred faltered slightly, looking a little unsure despite the resoluteness in his tone. "Yeah. I think we should," He added more firmly, blue eyes shining.

"But didn't I just say—"

"Are you worried that I'll leave?" Alfred interrupted, expression softening. He let out a booming laugh when Arthur, whose cheeks had quickly turned heated with embarrassment, began to garble denials. "Because I won't, you know. You can count on that." He winked at Arthur who blundered, unable to decide if he found Alfred's impromptu confession endearing or foreboding. "Besides," he added. "it's about you let them meet me, don't you think?"

Arthur averted his gaze, ignoring the prickling guilt in his heart. While he had already been introduced to the Joneses as Alfred's boyfriend months ago, he hasn't quite gotten around to doing the same for him yet and he knew that, despite his claims otherwise, deep down Alfred resented him for it. Even if it was only a little bit.

"But I'm not sure if—" he tried.

"Just think about it!" Alfred interrupted, hesitation gone only to be replaced with excitement and fiery determination. "Isn't this perfect timing? You can tell them about our engagement and introduce me as your fiancé! They were even nice enough to send us tickets—oh c'mon Artie!" He grabbed Arthur's hand just as the Brit made to turn away. "It'll definitely be worth it! Please?"

Arthur swallowed. Alfred had used _that_ tone on him, the very one he often used when he badly wanted something out of someone, and it nearly always worked on Arthur. But not today. Not this time, no. Arthur squared his shoulders, stood up to his full height and put on the sternest expression he could muster.

"No."

It didn't seem to have any effect on Alfred though. Instead of dropping the subject as he had hoped, he pressed on the matter even further.

"C'mon Artie! You know it's only proper. After all, it _is_ tradition."

Arthur grimaced. Trust Alfred to know all the right points in an argument to attack. He sometimes forgot how obnoxiously persistent (and frightfully convincing) the American got when he needed to be. Maybe this was how he almost always won over the jurors. It wasn't as if Arthur was opposed to the general idea of meeting each other's families. On the contrary, he rather enjoyed staying over at Alfred's parents' house in LA. But unlike the Joneses who were pleasant company, the Kirkland brothers were something of a special breed altogether. They were rowdy and brash and liked to play rough. He highly doubted that Alfred would have much in common with them. If only his family were a little less…dysfunctional, maybe this wouldn't be so difficult.

He let his faze fall on Alfred. Although the American appeared nonchalant, smiling lazily, Arthur could see a shimmer of expectation flickering in and out of those kind, blue eyes.

_No! No! Bad idea. Look away! Stiff upper lip, remember?_

But he couldn't tear his eyes away because how could he refuse him anything when he looked so _sincere _like that? His eyes growing wider the more Arthur stared. The seconds ticked and Alfred grinned, all white teeth and charming—and damn it if he was going to regret this. Really—

"I'll call to confirm," He blurted before he could stop himself.

Bugger all.

That was how the heavy lead in his heart came to settle, still weighing him down a day later as they walked into the airport in the pale morning light, dragging along their trolley bags (and Arthur's mental baggage with them. Oh ha-ha! Very funny), checked-in and waited for their flight number to be called. All the while, Arthur was doing his best to convince himself that he was not going to regret this. Not a bit. After all, it made perfectly good sense that Alfred would want to meet his prospective in-laws while there was opportunity. To see what they were like and such. And anyway, wasn't this how engagements normally went about? Meeting each other's families? He needed to stop this senseless worrying.

It would only be until the twenty-fifth, he reminded himself.

However, minutes after their plane took off, Arthur's headache worsened. He sunk heavily into his cushioned seat, the pounding in his head too great to ignore. He cradled his head in his hands and concentrated hard on breathing deeply to keep himself from whimpering or_—god forbid_—_moaning _out in pain or making other equally embarrassing noises. Thankfully, Alfred had the good sense to bring along sleeping pills, which he made Arthur take so that he spent the next eight hours of their flight happily passed out until someone shook him awake again. He jolted awake to the flight attendant's pleasant voice announcing that it was a quarter past noon and that their plane had safely landed.

"Feeling okay now Artie?" Alfred asked him, concerned.

Of course his brothers had to pick out the earliest flight from New York to Heathrow. Aside from it being the cheapest, it almost meant getting to indirectly cause unnecessary stress to Arthur (and now Alfred by default, the poor lad) by forcing them to get up and going at ungodly hours and that was _always _fun.

"Just a bit sleepy." He yawned.

"You sure? Cause you still look like you wanna throw up."

Arthur shook off Alfred's hand when the American tried to check his temperature. "Yes, luv. I'm fine now. Really."

Suddenly, they heard an overtly loud and throaty yell coming from the other side of the terminal.

"Yo Jones!"

They turned, as did several other heads whose faces definitely did _not _look amused, to see that the disembodied voice belonged to a tall albino who was waving his suitcase around enthusiastically in the air as he all but zoomed over to them. Trailing a ways behind him was Matthew, pink-faced and desperately trying to hide his affiliation with the crazy German.

Alfred jumped to his feet and pound-hug Gilbert, shaking his hand furiously while wrapping his left arm around the other's shoulders in a one-armed hug. After they let go, he barreled towards Matthew, pulling him into a tight embrace before ruffling his younger brother's wavy blond hair, messing it up as he did.

Arthur, not much of a hugger, settled for smiling warmly at Matthew and giving a curt nod to Gilbert. He still hasn't quite gotten over their less than spectacular first meeting, when Gilbert had mistaken the scones he baked for coal and threw them into the fire, claiming afterwards that he had saved them all from food poisoning, the git.

"It's nice to see you again Matt," Arthur said. He turned to the husband, trying not to look scathing. "Gilbert."

"You too, Arthur." Matthew replied politely.

"You bastard! How could you do this to me?" Gilbert complained, ignoring Arthur in favor of shoving Alfred's shoulder roughly. "You said we we're going to go snowboarding in Aspen! I was going to beat you! But _no_, you just had to bail out on me and decide you'd rather spend time in fucking England instead!" He complained loudly.

"Gil, keep it down! People are starting." Matthew hissed under his breath. Gilbert scowled but for once, heeded Matthew and fell silent. "Excuse him, he just hasn't had a lot of sleep last night."

Not a lot was a bit of an understatement, Arthur thought. Gilbert looked as if he had just come home from a frat party.

"What's with this shitty schedule anyway?" Gilbert smacked the itinerary with the back of his hand. "Couldn't you guys have picked a—_oh, I dunno_—a more reasonable time to travel? _Gott_! I don't even know why I agreed to this! Matt?"

While Arthur was left to wonder the same, Alfred, meanwhile, had pulled his twin aside and away from both Arthur and Gilbert's earshots.

"Sorry, I know it's a bit, uh, bad timing." He smiled in apology. "But it's still really awesome you guys could make it. It would've been so awkward, y'know? With just us, I mean.

Matthew rolled his eyes at him. He knew Alfred didn't like asking anyone for help but he had come very, very close to pleading just a couple nights ago when he guilt-tripped both him and Gilbert into tagging along with them when their parents firmly declined to go, citing bad knees as an excuse (though Matthew suspected they just wanted to get a head start on those slopes.) Naturally, he agreed, bound by familial duty and a hunch that Alfred would forever be rancorous to him if he didn't.

"No problem, bro. But hey listen," Matthew leaned in to whisper to Alfred. "We're still going to Aspen because—_god Al_—I don't think I can take another day of Gil's whining.

Alfred laughed. "I think Arthur agrees," he said, eying the still-chattering German who was oblivious to the murderous looks Arthur kept throwing at him. "Just try to get him to chill for a bit, will you?" He rubbed the back of his neck, stiff from being in one position for too long. He turned to his twin, expression serious. "This is really important to me Matt."

"I know," Matt said, giving Alfred the thumbs up. "So, ah, we should join 'em." He nodded towards the pair. "Can't have your fiancé spilling blood before the wedding, eh?"

* * *

><p>The fun thing about Arthur was the myriad of moods he tended to fall into, going from excited to depressed to angry all in the space of minutes given the right conditions, amplified whenever booze was involved. And for somebody who claimed to be a gentleman (and who did that nowadays? Ian had to wonder) he had an incredibly short temper. Luckily, being the eldest, he always had the fallback of claiming seniority over his younger siblings whenever they had a dispute. But Arthur had always been his favorite one to tease, being the most skittish and grouchy out of the lot of them.<p>

Ian cast a quick glance at his passengers in the back seat.

So far, all of them looked exhausted, the dark circles under their eyes contrasting sharply against their pale skin, making them all look half-dead.

Matthew was pillowing his head on the Gilbert's shoulder, who, after realizing that nobody was really listening to him, had finally shut up and was now dozing off. Alfred was distracting himself by watching the passing scenery, though by the looks of it, he was failing miserably. Jet-lagged, they all looked the very picture of 'boredom' that Ian felt that it might not be such a bad thing if their party kicked off a little early.

He cranked up the stereo's volume.

All three were jarred to awareness by to the blubbering ding, dong, ding, dong-ing of Paul McCartney's 'Wonderful Christmas Time'.

"_A-huh_—" Alfred fumbled, wiping his eyes clear from sleep.

"_Sonuvabitch!_ Turn down that racket!" Gilbert cried, clogging his ears.

Arthur clicked his tongue disapprovingly beside him, but otherwise, made no move to berate him.

"We're nearly there," Ian said, slewing to the right rather harshly and chuckling softly when he saw Arthur hit his head on the window pane.

He planned to house them all in his home, of course, and had instructed Dylan and Colin beforehand to decorate the whole thing as they saw fit. He heard somewhere before that Americans were rather fond of their Christmases.

"So Alfred is it?" Ian said. "'ow're ya likin' it 'ere so far lad?"

Alfred blinked.

"It's been cool so far!" he smiled cheerfully. "Oh wow…" He gawked as they pulled up into the driveway and the car skittered to a halt. Biting his lip, he wracked his brain in search of something appropriate to describe the spectacle before him. "Your decorations are, uh...they're really eye-popping man."

"Why thank ya lad."

Arthur, on the other hand, looked horror-stricken.

"What did you _do_?" he spluttered, green eyes shifting wildly from left to right as he took in the sight of the brightly-lit, tastelessly decorated debacle that used to be his boyhood home.

"Wot? We just wanted Alfred and 'is family ter feel welcome in our home. It looks pretty good if you ask me."

"It looks like a bleeding gingerbread man live here!"

"It's creative." Ian insisted.

"It's _deranged, _you blind prat!" Arthur spat, kicking one of the massive plastic candy canes lodged deep into their front lawn.

"I think it looks alright," Matthew said uncertainly, attempting to ease the growing tension in the air. "Our parents used to decorate the outside of our house ever year too when we were little, eh Al?" He nudged Alfred's elbow.

"Huh? O-oh yeah! Yeah, totally!" Alfred said, nodding furiously. "Not, uh, like this though. Maybe just a couple of lights decked out. Ah! But," he added quickly when he caught Matthew's pointed look. "...yeah, this brings back so many memories!"

Gilbert snorted. They turned to stare at him, Matthew, narrowing his eyes rather dangerously.

"As awesome as your trip down memory lane is I'm sure," Gilbert said, ignoring Matthew's glare. "Are you gonna invited us in or not?" He asked, shivering. "What Matt? It's freezing out here!" It was. Their breaths were coming out in puffs of white smoke.

"Of course. Come in, come in." Ian said finally, herding them all inside.

The interior, Arthur noted with disappointment, still looked as if it was copied off the set of a corny Christmas flick, but at least, he thought, it was considerably tamer compared to the atrocity that they saw outside. He would have to talk to Ian about that a bit later.

"Are those—?" he heard Alfred ask and turned to see him flicking the gold-rimmed ornaments on the tree.

"Yep. All antiques, mate. And look—" Ian spun the tree around to reveal the back, from which hung tacky, 'I love New York' t-shirt wearing Santa Clauses, complete with a bunch of Rudolf and Frosty ones. If it weren't completely immature, Arthur would have smacked his head at the sheer stupidity of it all. "It wasn't easy findin' these I gotta tell ya. But we figured, since it was for family—well, any day now at least—" He winked knowingly at Arthur, which made Alfred cough and blush red and Arthur want to throttle him right then and there. "—we'd give it our best shot. That's a real tree too," he added proudly. "A Norway Spruce ordered fresh from an old acquaintance of Dyl's. Speakin' of which...Colin, Dylan, Peter! Get down 'ere and come greet our guests!"

A moment later, they heard the heavy thuds of doors opening and closing and the loud thumping noises of feet coming from upstairs (one was probably running from the sounds of it).

The first to appear was a boy who looked about twelve. He had the same ashen blond hair as Arthur, though lighter, and the same impressive pair of thick brows. He ran right past Alfred and straight to Arthur, jumping up and down in excitement.

"Where is it? Did ya bring it?" he asked Arthur. "I 'ope you didn't forget my present this time!"

"Belt up Peter! Don't be rude," A young man with light-brown hair scolded. "Sorry about 'im. The name's Colin, " Colin held out his hand for them to shake. "That's Dylan—" He pointed to another blond, a somber-looking young man who nodded to them politely. "—he's the third— and this cheeky brat 'ere," He pulled a squirming Peter roughly by the collar. "...is Peter." Lowering his voice, he added, "Don't be fooled by his angelic looks. 'e's a real brat most of the time. Best to just ignore 'im."

"I am not ya liar! I don't—ugh!—you jerk!" Peter shouted exasperatedly when Colin leaned in to fake-whisper to Alfred again. He stuck his tongue out at his older brother and stomped away angrily, leaving both Ian and Colin to chortle loudly. Arthur, though, didn't look amused. He clicked his tongue sharply and gave Colin a particularly nasty glare before excusing himself to go after Peter.

"Peter! You _know_ he didn't mean that!"

Alfred found himself grinning at Arthur's protectiveness towards Peter. No matter how much Arthur complained about him back home, Alfred knew that the boy never strayed too far from Arthur's mind.

"The kid doesn't like ter admit it, but Arthur is 'is favorite." Colin told Alfred.

"Oh my god! What is _that?_" they heard Gilbert cry suddenly, pointing to an admittedly creepy-looking statue of a leprechaun sitting on a top of a pot of gold.

Ian ran a hand through his wild, ginger hair, sighing loudly.

"Cols, didn't we agree ter get rid of that?" He eyed the statue with repulse. Colin stood in front of it almost instantly, holding out a protective hand as if to shield it from Gilbert's smoldering gaze.

"But it's supposed ter brin' good luck!" Colin said defensively.

"He got it off an Irishman while 'e was still in university. 'e's quite taken with it as you can see," Dylan whispered to Matthew and Alfred. "But, er... We 'ad ter convince him ter get rid of it once Peter started 'avin' nightmares abaht bein' kidnapped by leprechauns." He shuddered. "And good riddance too if you ask me. I feel loike its starin' at me whenever I'm alone with it."

All three instinctively moved away from the statue. Gilbert eyed it warily, as if expecting it to suddenly come to life.

"So Alfred," Ian wound his arm around Alfred's shoulders after a while. He had on an expression of what Alfred could only describe as pure mischief. "Would you loike to see some of Arthur's baby pictures?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Sorry it took me so long to update! I got too caught up with real life and didn't want to post anything hastily made. But anyway, this is the end result and I hope you like it! To all those who reviewed, put this story up on their favorite lists and story alerts, thank you all so much! Your comments motivate me to become a better writer.

Enjoy and please don't forget to review!

Chapter 3 will be posted either this weekend or early next week.


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